


Court and Spark

by glitterkitty4ever



Category: Sherlock Holmes television
Genre: AU Paranormal Romance Sherlolly Happily Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-21 02:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12448074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterkitty4ever/pseuds/glitterkitty4ever
Summary: As with all the women on her mother's side Molly has been blessed with magical abilities. Among them is the rare Gift of Spark. It's a gift to only be shared with mutual love and trust. It's powerful magic to reunite a soul with their physical body. Molly believes Sherlock Holmes is worth having a second chance to live his brilliant life, but does Sherlock believe he is?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this is from Court and Spark by Joni Mitchel. Music always helps my creativity and it's such a great song. Thank you @mellovesall for being so supportive. She knows how terrified I am about posting this. Thanks to all of the writers whose fics I read. You are all so brilliant and talented. I hope to get better as I go. I don't own the characters (obviously) but, I love them! I also love ghost stories, Practical Magic and The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. So, there's my inspiration. I will try to update as often as time and life allow. If you read this fluff thank you!

Court and Spark

Chapter 1

 

     “Are you sure? No second thoughts?” Martha Hudson glanced around the flat looking a bit nervous. “All of the furniture belonged to a previous tenant and I haven't changed the paint colours and wallpaper since I bought the building. It's rather gloomy for such a pretty and cheerful girl like you.”

  
     “Oh I adore the paper! The late Victorian design is lovely!” Molly stepped further into the flat, stopping in the middle of the sitting room. She put Toby’s pet carrier down. The good natured cat meowed as if relieved to no longer be swaying above ground, to his perspective at least. “Mrs. Hudson, I love it just as much now as I did last week when I saw it. I wouldn't have stuffed three suitcases and three boxes along with Toby in a cab if I didn't. Finding a fully furnished place this nice is a dream come true!” She knew why Mrs. Hudson seemed reluctant about her moving into 221 B. The kind lady felt understandably guilty about renting out a haunted flat.

  
     “Well, all right dear, bring your things up. I'll open the curtains and dust a few things. Just this once though. You'll have to clean up after yourself. I'm not a housekeeper!” With a happy smile,Molly bounded down the stairs to get her belongings. As Mrs. Hudson opened the heavy drapes she muttered, “Right then mister, if you're still here you better be on good behavior. She's absolutely darling and if you scare the daylights out of her I'll never forgive you!” 

     The ghost scowled petulantly at his former landlady; not that she could see him. If she could she would either faint with fright, or start crying. He still had a soft spot for her and didn't want her upset because of him, again. She knew he was here and the arrangement such as it was, worked well. It could at any rate if Mrs. Hudson didn't feel the need to rent out his flat. It never ended well for the would-be tenant. He had easily chased away the others and the last idiot had been particularly fun to scare, hardly a challenge though. He refused to change tactics on this next one just because she happened to be an attractive young woman. He hadn't cared about things like that when he was in his physical transport and saw no reason to now.

  
—-—

  
     As evening progressed, Molly decided to finally relax in her new home. Toby’s litter box and food and water bowls were in place and he was content, curled up on the freshly made bed. He had acclimated quickly, having lived with Molly long enough to know that there was no reason to be concerned with any spirits hanging around. She settled down on the sofa with a cup of tea. The masculine furniture wasn't her style, but she found it comfortable. Perhaps as Autumn grew darker and deeper she could use the fireplace. She put her cup on the coffee table and opened her laptop, keeping an air of nonchalance as she waited for the activity to start. The living room floor creaked as if being walked upon. She pointedly ignored it. “There it is.” Molly thought.

  
     He walked in front of the coffee table, studying the new interloper. He found it odd that her cat hadn't displayed any awareness to his presence. Weren't animals supposedly sensitive to spirits? He refused to call himself a ghost. The petite woman sitting on his sofa absently twirled a piece of her long hair around her finger as she looked at her computer screen. She paused to take a sip of tea, gave a contented sigh and placed the cup down. He acknowledged that so far she had been "Not Annoying". He had observed her from the vantage point of his favourite chair throughout the day. She had quietly hummed as she unpacked and she had gratefully accepted the tray of nibbles that Mrs. Hudson had brought her. He had almost succumbed to smiling when she had thanked the older woman with a hug. Still, the fact remained; she couldn't stay.

  
     Perhaps he wouldn't need to do much to frighten her. She was wearing jumper decorated with bright pink cats along with fuzzy socks for heavens sake! The last tenant had been a man built like a thick tree stump and ran out screaming like a banshee after his tacky beer glasses had been smashed. Surely this little thing would squeak like a mouse and scurry away with her cat. He ignored the unusual whisper of guilt. He preferred to be alone and she could easily find somewhere else to live.  
When he had been corporeal Sherlock William Scott Holmes had been possessed with manic energy and quicksilver intellect. In spirit form he still manifested that powerful energy and manipulating solid objects proved to be ridiculously easy. He grabbed the edge of the table and shook it.  
The woman glanced at it, then continued with her reading. He moved it again, a bit more forcefully. This time she merely shrugged and shook her head.

  
     Sherlock frowned, growing frustrated. Why wasn't she reacting? He stepped between the table and the sofa and slowly slid her cup closer and closer to the edge, making sure that it made a properly creepy scraping sound.

     Just as it began to teeter she caught it and picked it up. With a soft sweet voice she said, “If you break any of my things I will kick your ghostly arse!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm slowly getting the hang of this. So I appreciate your patience. I'm not sure how many chapters this will finally be. I'll let them decide what they want to tell me.

                                                                          

                                                                                Sherlock seethed with indignation and it was righteous in his estimation. Not only had this woman threatened him, she had known he was here the entire time?

He threw himself on the sofa, making her slightly bounce from the impact. Huffing in annoyance, he wondered what his next move should be with his new opponent. She looked in his direction with big brown eyes and a pretty? No not pretty! (Damn it fine!) She had a pretty smile.

“Um, hi. My name is Molly Hooper and I’m a doctor of Pathology. In case you’re wondering I’m able to sense spirits. I always have, even as a child. So, um, at any rate… I knew this flat was haunted straight away, but it's lovely and I’m not afraid of you.” And with that she primly took a sip of tea and put her cup down on the table.

              **************************************************************************************

  
Molly waited patiently for her new flat mate to respond. She really did hope they could co exist peacefully.  
“You can talk to me. I’ll be able to hear you. You can materialise if you’d like, because I can see apparitions if they want to be seen.” She took a breath. “Oh! Don’t worry if you look really um, dead. I’m sure I've seen worse, what with doing postmortems!” She couldn't help but chuckle a bit about that.  
  
“Please tell me that wasn't an attempt at making a joke.” A deep velvet voice spoke right next to her, giving Molly goosebumps. “That voice could melt chocolate,” she thought with a shiver.  
  
Then, the owner of that delicious voice appeared, taking form rather quickly. He had black unruly curls, framing a face blessed with crystalline blue eyes and high sharp cheekbones. His full lips were at the moment curved in a rather humourless grin.

“Well, you certainly don't look dead. A bit pale maybe.” She felt proud of herself for not stammering.  
  
“Yes that's something to be grateful for,” he remarked drily, moving his long graceful form to recline back against the arm of the sofa.

  
His feet were bare and his toes were very close to Molly’s leg. She suppressed a giggle thinking that they were long enough to be prehensile.  
  
He seemed to be dressed for bed,wearing pajama pants with a red dressing gown. She was relieved to see that he didn't seem to be holding on to his death state. It wouldn't have bothered her, but it could be rather unsettling, especially if it had been a violent death. Molly closed her laptop, prepared to give him her full attention.  
  
“I’m Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective. And. You. Are. In. My. Flat!”

_Right. Tall, Pale and Grumpy wanted to be difficult._  
  
“It’s lovely to meet you Mr. Holmes. I quite like your name.” Molly offered him another smile. He scowled.  
She straightened her spine and pushed forward. “I must tell you though, that it's my name on the lease and I'm the one paying rent. So, technically you’re in my flat. Which is fine, really! I don't mind.”

He parted his lips to speak, but Molly raised her hand. “I think we could get on very nicely here. I’m quiet and tidy and I don't throw loud parties. I’m also a very good listener, so you could tell me all about what you did as a consulting detective. It really sounds fascinating!”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Dr. Hooper”-

“Please, call me Molly.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine, Molly…” He sighed and shifted a bit and his toes made contact with her leg.

A warm, slightly electrical tingle danced and tickled across the skin of her leg. She jumped with surprise. “Oh!”

“Well, that's new.” Sherlock murmured. 

 

 

       

             

  
                           

           

       

 

  
        

         
  
           

      

              

  
               

       

  
             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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